Chimes
by athena73
Summary: A last look...


Disclaimer: I don't own Michael, Nikita, Birkoff, Walter, Madeline, or Operations. Any other characters in the following story are figments of my imagination. In other words, the names you know, I don't own and the ones you don't know, I do own...I think. I wrote this many moons ago, probably during the first or second seasons, so please excuse the differences I portray and what happened on the series. Thanks.

Author's Note: To my sister. The southern one. You are the best.

Chimes

The memories were pouring over Nikita as she stood beside a grave in a small, rural cemetery. She remembered her golden hair, which had long turned to silver and cut short for ease. Her long legged gait from long ago had disintegrated into a slow shuffle. 'Years of ducking, rolling, and falling will do that to a body', she thought with a small grin. She is 87 now, a grandmother. Her daughter, Michelle, had had three children, a daughter named Lynn, another daughter named Faith, and a son named Michael Jr. Nikita loved to have her grandchildren gather around her as she told them stories, stories of their grandpa Michael, whom they had never met. She told them of her Michael, the man she fell in love with. They loved to hear the stories of how he saved many innocent people before his death, over 50 years ago.

Michael and Nikita had finally gotten the long sought after permission to have a relationship outside of Section One. Nikita gave birth to Michelle, a much adored daughter, soon after. When Michelle was only five years old, her father was tragically killed in an uprising that eventually became the downfall of Operations and his precious Section. The few remaining operatives were given their freedom. After mourning Michael's death, Nikita and Michelle moved to the U.S., to a small town where they became a "normal" single parent family. Michelle grew up, going through all of the typical adolescent and teenaged phases, into a vibrant and beautiful woman. She had Michael's sea green eyes and Nikita's blonde hair and fair skin. Unfortunately, she had few memories of her father. Through her mother, though, she knew that he had loved her fiercely and would have done anything to protect her. She also knew of the hell that her parents had gone through in order to have her. You see, she knew of Section One. She had met and been loved by her Uncle Walter and her Uncle Birkoff. She could remember bits and pieces of Operations and Madeline. They were all gone now, of course. Operations had died during the coup and Madeline followed 5 years later at the hands of an ex-operative, bent on revenge. Walter and Birkoff survived the uprising, but had had trouble adjusting to the civilian world, but with the help of Nikita and Michelle, they did eventually. Walter had long since died of old age and Birkoff passed away just two years later, after a long battle with cancer.

Nikita was the only one left of the Section family.

With a sigh, she pulled herself back to the present. She slowly kneeled down next to the headstone "Oh, Michael, you should see our grandchildren, they are so wonderful. Lynn is getting married next week to a lovely young man named Robert. Faith, bless her, is going into acting. Michael Jr., well, he has decided to become a police officer. I am so proud of them. Michelle is good. She and James are doing wonderfully. He has retired and they are going to start to travel after Lynn's wedding." She stopped and pulled a delicate handkerchief from her pocket. "Oh, Michael, after all these years, I still miss you terribly. " she finished as the tears ran down her face.

She slowly pulled herself up off the ground, her arthritis keeping her from moving too quickly. She turned from the grave and slowly walked away, towards her home, turning only once to whisper, "I'll see you soon, my love."

Nikita had moved in with Michelle and her husband. She walked slowly towards the condo, thinking of her Michael, about their first kiss, their first night as husband and wife, their last kiss.

When she arrived at the condo, she walked up the stairs, into her room and to a desk. She sat down and pulled out some stationary that Faith had given her the year before, for Christmas. She slowly began to write and when she finished, she slid the letter into an envelope and wrote her daughter's name on it. She placed it on the desk and stood up, going over to the closet. From it, she pulls a white box, topped with a satin ribbon. In it is her wedding gift to Lynn, a lovingly constructed scrapbook of memories for Lynn to pass on to her children. Stories of yesteryear and tomorrow, about princes and princesses, of evil men and beautiful women. Stories of blood relatives who didn't care and of non-relations who did, of boys and their computers and men with their guns.

Nikita was tired, so very tired, as she laid down on the bed, after taking a well worn picture out of its frame and holding it close to her heart. She closed her eyes and can hear Michael calling to her...

"'Kita?"

"Michael is that you?"

"Yes, my love. Hurry, we are waiting for you."

As the mist cleared, Nikita saw Michael, with his arms open, just the way she remembered him. She ran to him and held on.

"Oh, my darling, I have missed you." she whispers.

He pulled away slightly and looked deep in her eyes, savoring her closeness. He lovingly pushed a golden lock of hair back behind one ear. "All these years, I have watched you raise our daughter, and later welcomed her children into the family. I am so proud of you. You accomplished so much." He wrapped his arms even more tightly around her now youthful waist, before pulling back again. "There are others who wish to see you." he said.

Nikita looked over his shoulder and saw Walter. She ran to him and threw her arms around him.

"Walter."

"Hiya, sugar." he says.

"Nikita?"

She turns and sees Birkoff, just as she remembered him. After embracing him and all her other friends that passed before her, she went back to Michael's arms, to stay there forever.

Later...

Michelle has just returned from burying her mother. Her sadness is palpable. She regrets that she had not been there when her mother had died, that she had died alone. She slowly surveys the now cold room and spies a letter on the desk. She opens it and reads...

**My darling daughter,**

**I am so proud of you. I love you. Please do not mourn me as I am in a far greater place. I am with your father now. As I write this, I can feel him getting closer and closer. I am ready to go and be with him. My biggest regret is that you don't fully remember him. I once read that life was a shattered piece of glass that had been made into wind chimes. The first time I heard those chimes was when I met your father, the second when I first held you in my arms, and I hear them now. It is my time to go. Please tell Lynn, Faith, and Michael that I love them and wish them all the happiness that they can find. Please give the gift to Lynn on her wedding day. **

**I love you.**

**Mom**

Michelle knew that her mother was in a better place and that she had been reunited with her father. She took the letter and placed it back in the envelope adding another piece of paper, the obituary from the local paper.

_Nikita Samuelle died peacefully in her home last Tuesday. She is preceded in death by her husband, Michael. Mrs. Samuelle was a volunteer at a local homeless shelter and was active in the PTA when her daughter attended school. Mourning her passing is her daughter, Michelle, her son-in-law James, and three grandchildren, Lynn, Faith, and Michael Jr. She will be greatly missed._

Michelle sat on the bed and for a moment could hear the faint twinkling of a wind chime. She smiled and whispered, "I love you."


End file.
